


It Just Came Out

by WolfMadeFromAsh



Series: Tumblr Prompts [7]
Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Confession, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Fluff, M/M, No Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 02:09:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20145838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfMadeFromAsh/pseuds/WolfMadeFromAsh
Summary: After a stressful encounter in the woods, Stiles rants to Scott about how stupid Derek Hale can be.





	It Just Came Out

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr Prompt, sort of.
> 
> I saw a prompt about accidental confessions. So...here. Of course its just a bunch of fluff.

Stiles is pacing back and forth in Scott’s room, his friend following him with his eyes from his bed. His shirt is splattered red, the slash on his arm leaving blood trailing down to his fingertips, droplets dotting the floor.

“Dude, I think you need stitches.”

“That was the stupidest, most _reckless _thing he’s ever done!” Stiles yells, ignoring his friends concern.

“Stiles’ they were going to _kill _you!”

“No!” Stiles yelled, whirling around to face Scott. “No, they wanted to kill _Derek_; I was the bait. They _couldn’t _kill me, it’s against their own rules. _Harm no innocents_. They define innocents as anyone not corrupted. They think werewolves have been influenced and touch by the devil therefore _corrupt_; humans are safe. I explained _all _of this; _clearly _no one was listening. Certainly not _Derek _who almost got himself _killed_!”

“But he didn’t. This happens literally all the time, why’s _this_ any different?”

“I don’t know, maybe because I’m responsible. He came to save the poor _pathetic _human and almost got killed for it. If you hadn’t shown up, who knows what would have happened.”

Scott shook his head, moving to sit that the edge of his bed. “That’s not it, you blamed yourself for the nogitsune, which did more damage, but you weren’t this worked up. There’s something else, something you’re not telling me.”

“I’m not allowed to be upset that I’m _constantly _needing saving?”

“Stiles.”

“It’s frustrating and _embarrassing_-” Stiles starts pacing the room again.

“Stiles.”

“As if it wasn’t enough that I got _taken _in the first place-”

“_Stiles._”

“I’m in love with him! Okay?! There, happy? I’m in love with Derek _Hale_ and seeing him almost _suffocate _because he was there to save me, has me a little on edge! I mean, for _once_, can he just take care of himself?! _No_! He has go running in and save everyone because it’s _Derek _and he somehow thinks that his life is worth less than everyone else’s!”

Scott’s eyes look past his pacing friend, to the doorway. “Stiles, maybe we should talk about this later?”

“He goes off," Stiles surges on. "Fighting alpha’s and Darachs and whatever fucking _else _pops into town; doesn’t even _wait _for a plan to be made or ignores the plan we _do_ come up with because he’s Derek _fucking _Hale. He’s a reckless _asshole_, but-”

“Stiles, you _definitely_ want to wait and talk about this later.” Scott tries to warn.

“I’m still in love with him.” Scott gives Stiles a pained look. “What?” Stiles narrows his eyes at his friend, turning to look behind him. His mouth drops open and he stumbles back.

Derek fills the doorway, staring wide-eyed at Stiles with his mouth parted. “I-I came to check your arm.” He explains slowly, almost apologetically.

“I-I…” Stiles stares at Derek, his heart hammering against his chest so hard it hurts. His head snaps to Scott who is trying desperately to show moral support through his eyes. He looks back at Derek again, feeling panicked and trapped. “I didn’t…I mean…I…I have to go.” He says in a rush, pushing past Derek’s bulky frame.

Derek stays against the wall where Stiles shoved him in his haste to leave; he lets him go, staring down the empty hallway. The sound of the Jeep starting and rumbling down the street echoes in his head, the imagine of Stiles’ horrified face haunting him. Scott moves toward him, he can faintly hear him calling his name but he can’t seem to respond.

The other wolf growls, snapping him out of his trance only when his fist connects with his jaw. He snaps to action, whirling on the threat; his eyes bleeding red and snarling around his dropped fangs. Scott seizes him by the throat and thrusts him onto the floor, roaring above his growls with rivaling red eyes.

Derek stops, his chest heaving as he reels the wolf back in. Scott loosens his grip on his throat, grabbing the front of his shirt, yanking him up and slamming him back down onto the floor before getting off him.

“Why are you such a fucking _asshole_! You have enhanced _hearing_! You _knew _what Stiles had said, but you came up here anyway and now he’s humiliated.”

Derek sighs, closing his eyes and groaning in frustration from his place on the floor. “I _didn’t _hear him, _actually_. I’m still weak after dealing with those witches, my hearing and strength are quiet back yet.”

“You couldn’t hear him from downstairs?” Scott asks, calmer now.

Derek sits up slowly, wincing at the tugging of sore muscles. “No. And I’m not exactly healing like normal either. Just so you know.” He tells Scott, rubbing at his jaw.

“But your eyes and fangs-”

“That’s the only thing that’s back.”

“Oh.”

“I really _did_ just come up to check on his arm. They cut him pretty deep to get his scent to spread like it did. I knew he was still bleeding, I saw the trail going through the kitchen.”

Scott goes back to his bed, flopping down on it. “I told him he needed stiches, but he was too busy ranting about you and how you could have gotten killed tonight.”

“I almost get killed _every _night.” Derek mumbles, laying back on the floor.

“I basically told him the same thing.” Scott throws his arm over his eyes. “Why did those witches want you dead? And why did they use Stiles to get you out there?” Derek’s silence makes Scott push himself up on his elbows; he notices a shift in the room, he scents the air, scrunching his nose at the unfamiliar scent. “What? Derek, _what_? Why did they use Stiles to get to you?”

“Because,” Derek lifts his head up, thumping it against the ground. “The best way to get to an alpha is to go after their most significant packmate.”

“Their most significate packmate? Wouldn’t that be Isaac then?”

Derek groans. “Most _significant _doesn’t mean sired, Scott.”

“Then what-” Scott pauses, his mouth dropping open. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah.” Derek sighs miserably.

“Oh my god! You _are _a fucking asshole!” Scott yells, reaching back for a pillow and throwing it at Derek. “I wish I had something harder to throw at you! What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

Derek sits up, glaring at Scott. “What the fuck do you want from me Scott? Huh?”

“To go _talk _to him! He feels like _shit _right now and probably thinks he can never face you again! He feels rejected!”

“I _didn’t _reject him!”

“You sure as hell did _accept _him either!”

Derek jumps to his feet, glowering in Scotts face with red eyes. “He didn’t even give me a chance to react! I wasn’t expecting…I mean I didn’t think that he-” Derek growls, turning away from the other alpha, pacing the room in the same track Stiles had before. “You saw what happened tonight. You know why he was taken. Why he was _hurt_. It’s not safe for him, he wasn’t supposed to…”

“Wasn’t supposed to what? Fall for you?” Scott asks quietly. “You can’t control things like that Derek. You can’t _plan _on it. Did _you_?” Derek stops to look at him for a moment. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

“I don’t know how to do this; I can’t. Not if it means putting him in danger.”

“You can’t do that, you don’t have the right to make that decision without even talking to him first.”

“It’s to protect him, Scott. Look at what happened to him tonight! I could have lost him!”

“Yeah, but you see you don’t actually _have _him, do you?” Derek frowns at Scott. “Look, I _get _what your intentions are, Derek. I do; and they’re commendable. I tried to do that with Allison, all it ended up doing was push her away. Even when we managed to patch things up, it wasn’t the same. We drifted and then, she was gone. My biggest regret was making the mistake that she needed me to protect her. Stiles doesn’t need you to protect him. Did you think that maybe if he knew about his _place _within your pack, his place with _you_, then maybe he could have prepared?”

“I…” No, Derek hadn’t thought about that.

“Keeping people in the dark doesn't help them, Derek; it just makes them blind.”

Scott gives Derek a disappointed look, brushing against his shoulder as he leaves him in his room.

\-----*-----*-----*-----

He should confront Derek. He should stomp up at his place, lay everything out and make a point to tell him that he does not expect any feeling to be reciprocated but they need to just move forward. It’s out now, so face the music.

That would be the mature, responsible thing. Facing an issue head on.

So he hides out in his room.

For three days.

Stiles is _not _mature.

There has been no communication with any of the pack, any of his friends, since Derek’s little ninja act at Scotts. He has to give them credit though; they have tried like _hell _to get a hold of him or to see him. Mountain ash is a beautiful thing when you have a bunch of werewolves running around and you don’t want them to just pop in through the window. He can’t handle their pity, he doesn’t want to be comforted. He wants to sit and wallow and maybe die sometime later this week.

He’s barely even spoken to his dad, other than to tell him he’s a moron who accidently told Derek he was in love with him. And boy, wasn’t that a shock? In all the embarrassment that night, Stiles actually forgot that he hadn’t even told his that he was into guys.

It was a big day.

So, three days; no contact with the pack, as hard as they tried. The most surprising though, was that the first to call him, text him, show up as his _house_? Wasn’t Scott. Wasn’t Lydia.

It was Derek.

Probably just an alpha looking out for someone close to the pack, probably wanted to let him down easy. Rejection is still rejection, whether it’s kind or vicious.

It still hurts like a bitch.

But Stiles didn’t expect anything from Derek, not any feelings towards him more than camaraderie. He thought he would just quietly pine, pray that Derek would throw a few shirtless pull-ups out there every now and again, and life would move on. He wasn’t supposed to find out that in the last few years of knowing him he’d fallen, _hard_. He saw past the stone façade everyone else sees; he _knows _Derek, knows things about him no one else does. Derek cares about the people around him but keeps them at a safe distance because he’s still afraid of getting hurt.

Derek wasn’t supposed to find out.

Stiles _definitely _wasn’t supposed to be the one to tell him.

It was supposed to go away. It was supposed to be a crush.

But then it just…_came out_.

He's peeking into the fourth day of self-isolation when the sheriff practically bust his door down.

Stiles squawks, flailing his limbs around as he sits up. “Dad! What the-”

“That enough of what _ever _this has been. Get up, go outside, see your friends. And for the love of _God_, talk to Derek.”

Stiles looks at his father, face drawn together in confusion. “Talk to Derek? What? Why would I talk to Derek?”

“Because he’s been parked outside at the curb for the last three days.”

“Why?”

The sheriff shrugs. “My guess? You.”

“Me.”

“You.”

“But…um…w-why?”

His father sighs, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and pointer finger. “Because you keep ignoring him?”

Stiles shakes his head. “I can’t talk to him.”

“You can’t hide from him forever either and I have feeling he’s not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“But…what would I even _say_? I humiliated myself, he’s only out there so he can tell me we can just forget it ever happened. He’s just going to try and brush it off like no big thing, like I didn’t confess something so _monumental_ to him without knowing that I even did it.” Stiles shakes his head again, looking down to his lap. “I just…I’m not ready to face him yet.”

The sheriff sighs, looking disappointed. “Okay, well it’s your choice. I can’t force you to go out there.” The older man gets ups, reaching forward to squeeze his son’s shoulder. “I’ve got to head to the station.” Stiles nods, giving his dad a soft smile as he turns to leave. The sheriff pauses in the doorway, glancing at his son over his shoulder. “You know, he’s been _sleeping _in that car out there. He’s here when I wake up and still out there when I go to sleep. I don’t think he’d be sleeping in a car like he has if he wanted to just tell you to forget what happened.” He shrugs, moving through the doorway. “But that’s just the opinion of an old man.” He says, continuing his way down the hall.

\-----*-----*-----*-----

The Camaro isn’t an ideal place to sleep; it’s cramped, even with the seat back as far as it can be pushed and reclined. He hadn’t intended to park himself outside Stiles’ house, it just sort of happened. He hadn’t been answering his calls or texts, or even _emails_. Derek understood, he was embarrassed. He didn’t have anything to be embarrassed _about_ but he still was, mostly because he had no idea that there wasn’t a reason for it. He figured Stiles would come out eventually, then three days went by. Now he’s sitting outside on the morning of day four, feeling his eyelids getting heavy.

Again, the Camaro is _not _an ideal place to sleep; that is if you can even manage to _get _to sleep.

Stiles is the kind of person who you can't help but like. Derek experienced that first hand from day one; he wanted so desperately to _hate _this sarcastic, annoying, know-it-all kid but for the life of him he just _couldn’t_. Stiles had a courage that Derek admired, he’d been face-to-face with the unknown that wanted to rip him apart and he kept fighting. He fought for his friend even when he was trying to kill him. He was possessed by a chaos demon, killing friends and dozens more he didn’t know yet he still pushed forward when most would have given up. He jumps in front of danger if it means the people he cares about get an extra second to breath and think or get away all together; but no one ever leaves Stiles because he wouldn’t leave them.

And as much as he hates to admit it, even to himself, Derek actually finds Stiles to be _funny_.

He vaguely hears the sound of the police cruiser leaving the driveway as the sheriff head off to work, after that even the sound of the birds chirping in the trees disappears.

So when the passenger door opens and slams shut, it startles him awake, throwing him in to attack mode. Except the _Camaro isn’t an ideal place to sleep_.

Instead of coming off as threatening, Derek shoots up slamming his head on the roof and his arm rockets out making him lay on the horn. He throws himself back, except the seat is still reclines and he almost tumbles backwards. A snort of laughter has him freezing in place. Slowly he turns to look to his right, finding an absolutely giddy looking Stiles grinning down at him while doing a terrible job of _not _laughing.

“Dude. _That _was spastic.” Stiles barks out a laugh again.

The sound fills an emptiness in Derek chest, relieving an ache that settled there a few days ago. He glares at Stiles, though, putting his seat back into an upright position. “Shut up.” He mumbles.

Stiles looks tired; his eyes have dark circle under them and red around the rim; a sign he'd been crying recently.

Derek could have stopped that, if he’d stopped him from leaving Scott's.

He smells sad and looks nervous. Derek fights the twitch of muscle in his arm, urging him to just reach out and make him know that everything is okay. “Have you slept?” He asks, looking away as he shifts in his seat.

“Is that your way of telling me I look like shit?”

Derek swallows, shaking his head. “No. You look fine.”

“Lair.”

“Stiles.”

“Just, don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

Stiles pins him with a look that somehow says _stop playing dumb_. “Don’t do or say anything just to make me feel better. We don’t do that. We don’t _lie _to each other.”

“I’m not lying.” Derek insists. Sure, he looks tired but he doesn’t look like shit. He looks like Stiles; like he’s spent the last three nights staring bleary eyed at the computer to try and find every last piece of information on trolls he could and then going through it again to pull the fake stuff from the real. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you about the witches.” He says suddenly.

Stiles looks at him for a second, surprised that’s where the conversation is starting.

Might as well start from the beginning.

“You were gone. Scott said you probably went home, that you had some more books to sort through. But something felt _off_. It was _seconds_; it was like you disappeared into thin air.”

“I went to the bathroom. I smelt moss and pine.” He says, remembering the night the witched took him. “There was a fog then I woke up in the woods.”

“I didn’t smell anything.”

“That's the point; it's a scent found all over the place. You wouldn’t have picked up on them and if you did, it wouldn’t have seemed off to you or anyone else. That’s why they used that particular smell. They wanted to fight you on their grounds, where they had wards up and defensive spells at the ready.”

“I'm sorry they hurt you.” Derek said quietly, facing forward side-eyeing Stiles’ bandaged arm. Without thinking or second guessing himself, Derek reached over and takes Stiles' wrist, drawing his arm out slowly. His fingers running over the bandage. “Does it hurt now?”

Stiles’ pulse thumps quickly against his wrist. “No.”

Derek looks him in the eye at the uptick in his heartbeat. “We don’t lie to each other, Stiles.” He echoes his words back to him.

“I was cut from almost elbow to wrist, of course it hurts.” He tells him softly.

Derek rubs his thumb over his wrist. “They did it because of me, they wanted me.”

“I told you-”

“No, Stiles. You don’t understand, there is a reason they picked _you _over anyone else to use against me.”

“Because I’m the easy target.” He says sadly with a shrug, gently tugging his arm back. “Human. No powers.”

“You’re _not _an easy target.” Derek shifts to face Stiles fully. “You were their _best _chance of getting my out there, their only chance to get me there without any backup. The minute I stepped up to the tree line and the smell of your _blood _hit me? I couldn’t stop, there was nothing that was going to keep me from running into the woods to find you. Scott was with me, he drove out there with me. If it had been anyone else, I would have taken a minute to assess, to think about the things you had told us and made a plan. I wouldn’t have run in half rabid ready to kill whatever was there.”

“That’s so stupid.” Stiles was starting to get angry, Derek could hear it in his tone. “You can’t just go running into danger like that! Especially when I would have been _fine_! They would have gotten bored and left in a few hours to go plan the next thing to get you out of their way! And to just leave _Scott_?! Are you insane! He’s the one who saved your ass in the first place and you just left him! At least charging in with him at your side you would have had some help! Derek you stop _breathing_! Do you get that? I watched your eyes close and your chest stop moving. Do you have any idea how it felt to think you were _dead_?”

“Probably the same as thinking the witches sacrificed you when I smelled your blood _everywhere_.” Stiles looks at him, stunned into silence. Derek takes the moment to push on. “They took you because you are the person that means the most to me, the one who I can’t _bear _to lose.”

Stiles stared at Derek, expression blank. “W-what?”

“If I _lost _you? Stiles, I…I can’t even _think _about that possibility. I should have told you, I should have said something but I thought this was the best way to protect you. You were _taken _because of me. Because of what you are to me.”

“I…like…what? Your….”

“Don’t say it, it doesn’t work like-” Derek starts, pinching the bridge of his nose, knowing where Stiles’ mind is going.

“Mate?”

“That.” Derek sighs, shaking his head. “That’s not…it’s not a thing, not in the way you’re thinking; you read too much crap on the internet.”

“When I have question I go digging for answers.” Stiles mutters.

“Yeah, and get the wrong ones. Look, we’re human just as much as we’re wolves. There is no…_mates _in the sense that there is the deep cosmic connection, that we’re _bound _together by some unknown force.” Stiles seems to deflate at that. “Emotions already run higher for the supernatural, so there are people who feel that way. That’s how these stories get spread around, but there’s not anything really supernatural about it. It just…_is_.”

“It just is. _What _just is?”

Derek takes a slow, deep, breath. “I was surprised, when you said…when you said what you did.”

“Derek-” Stiles tries to stop Derek from continuing.

“You need to listen right now, Stiles. _Please_.” Stiles nods before Derek continues. “I should have stopped you from leaving, I could have _easily _stopped you. But I didn’t; I let you go. I let you run and feel like you humiliated yourself because I thought I was doing what was _best _for you. What could keep you safe. And, maybe there’s part of me that didn’t think I _deserved _to go after you.”

“You wanted to come after me?”

Derek nodded. “And I wish I did. Maybe you wouldn’t have been sitting in your room the past few days stewing in misery. I didn’t want to see you get hurt, but it happened anyway. I let you get only so close and those witches still knew to use you to get me out there. And I hurt you by not coming after you when you left Scott’s. When I finally decided to, it was hours later and the damage was done. I knew that, but I had to keep trying. You didn’t answer me though.”

“So, you sat outside my house?” Stiles questioned, feeling a smile tugging the corner of his mouth.

“I sat outside your house. I didn’t think you’d lock yourself up there for so long. I haven’t seen my bed in days and for the first time in my life I think I might need to see a chiropractor.”

Stiles’ smile turns more real, his mood shifting as he reaches hesitantly out to Derek, his fingers just barely brushing his cheek. Derek leans into the gentle touch, taking Stiles’ hand and pressing it to his cheek closing his eye and letting out a content sigh. Stiles moves his thumb back and forth over his cheek.

“Sleeping out here was that bad, huh?”

Derek opens his eyes to look at Stiles with a gentle smile. “It wasn’t great, but I wanted to be near.”

Stiles pulls away, reaching back and opening the door. Derek’s face falls, stuck leaning forward as if he were chasing after Stiles over the center console. Stiles is half out of the car when he turns back with a grin, his mouth tugging down when he looks at Derek. He rolls his eyes, huffing as he climbs out, peering back down at him.

“Get out of the car you old grumpy; come watch a movie with me.”

“You want to watch a movie?”

“I want you to come inside.”

Derek stared at Stiles a moment longer until the boy scoffed and turned back to his house, closing the door before he walked away. The wolf twisted around, climbing through his door and jogging lightly up to Stiles who was stopped in the middle of the yard when he heard the driver door of the Camaro close.

Stiles turns to Derek as he comes up to him, holding his hand out to him. Derek looks at the slender hand reaching toward him, then to the warm brown eyes watching him. He smiled, taking another step and grabbing the pale hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Derek lets Stiles tug him inside, the boy radiating happiness already. He shuts the door as they enter, Stiles dropping his hand and moving to the kitchen. Derek smiles to himself, feeling bold he moves up behind him.

Stiles lets out a squeal in surprise, stumbling forward. He looks over his shoulder at Derek, the wolf’s face right next to him. He grins back at Derek, nudging him with his elbow.

“Come on, _big bad wolf,_let me make some popcorn before you get all…wolfie.”

Derek nips at Stiles’ ear. “_Wolfie_?”

Stiles shoves back against Derek, pushing the wolf away. He grabs a couple bags of popcorn and places on in the microwave. He turns to lean against the counter as the bag begins to pop. “You, know, the whole scenting thing? That’s a thing right? I mean I’ve seen you drag your hand over Isaacs neck when you walk behind him, squeeze Scott’s shoulder.”

Derek moves next to Stiles, pressing their shoulders together. “I guess, yeah. I don’t really think about it; it’s just something so natural to me.”

“So, scenting is a thing? I knew Scott was an idiot.”

Derek huffed out a short laugh. “If you have questions about anything werewolf, for all of our sakes, do not ask Scott.” Derek pauses and adds, “Or Peter for that matter.”

“Peter?”

Derek nods. “He’ll feed you the wrong information and he can keep such a straight face, you’ll never know he’s fucking with you. Just…don’t trust anything he says. Ever.” Stiles falls silent, worrying at his bottom lip. Derek nudges him with his shoulder. “What?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing.”

“Stiles, I know that look. That’s the look you get before you ask something you don’t think you should. Usually it’s just a flash of a look, you don’t hold this much restraint. So, what is it.” Stiles just shakes his head, turning quickly to the microwave when it beeps. “Just say it.”

Stiles huffs, dumping the first bag into a clean bowl and popping the next on in. “Its…” He starts, focusing on the bowl of popped kernels and keeping his back to Derek.

“Stiles.” Derek places a gently hand on his should, easing him around to face him. “It’s okay.”

Stiles sighs. “It’s something Peter told us, Cora and me, after…after Boyd.”

“Okay.” Derek say, drawing his eyebrows together in confusion.

“You disappeared, there was so much going on and you were just gone. I was worried about you; I knew you were hurting and I just…I wanted to know how you were. Peter told us about your eyes, about when they turned blue.” Stiles’ eyes meet Derek’s for a short moment before he has to drop them.

Derek shallows, taking a deep breath. He inhales Stiles’ scent, the scent of the Stilinski’s together, love and happiness and family and _home._He lets it ground him, keep him here in with Stiles.

“He told you about Paige.” He says weakly.

“Yeah. But…I never believed him, I never believed it happened the way he said.”

“What did he tell you?”

“He said you loved her, that you loved her so much that you thought the only way you could be together was if she was turned. Peter told us that he tried to stop you.”

“You didn’t believe him?” Derek asks, surprised.

Stiles shook his head. “Why do you only see yourself as the bad guy? I knew part of his story was true, that something terrible happened. Something that would make you push people away. But he tried to make himself out to be the good guys, the voice of reason.”

“So what do you think happened?”

Stiles takes a minute to think his answer over, he tugs at the front of Derek’s shirt to pull him closer. “I think Peter did what Peter always does; he got in your head. I think he’s the only who told you that you and Paige couldn’t ever be really together; I think maybe he even told you she wouldn’t accept you. I think he pushed you into something you didn’t even want to happen, that he made you think you wanted it. I’m honestly not sure you even knew there was another alpha in the school that night. I think you were a kid, scared and alone with the girl you loved _dying _and _suffering _in your arms. It was either let her die afraid _and _in pain or give her some kid of peace. Either way, the decision wasn’t easy; it couldn’t have been. And honestly, I think you’re the kind of person who would have felt at fault no matter what.”

Derek rests his head on Stiles’ shoulder, snaking his arms around his waist. Stiles wraps his arms around Derek, rubbing his hand up and down his back. “I didn’t want to have her bitten, Peter said it was the only way. I asked him to just leave it alone, but he didn’t.” Derek takes a deep breath of just _Stiles _before pulling away, his eyes sad and haunted. “I was in the locker room after a game, thinking about what Peter said; I wanted to just _tell _Paige about me and I was trying to figure out how to do it. Then I heard her scream.”

“You had no idea?”

Derek shook his head. “Peter got Ennis there somehow, I don’t know what he did but he got him there and got Paige there too. The bite wasn’t taking and she was in just so much pain. I tried to take away what I could but it was too much.” Stiles draws his hand up to Derek’s face, catching a tear rolling down his cheek with his thumb. “She knew what I was the whole time, she told me it was the way I said things sometimes; I guess I didn’t always think about what I said, how it could implement me. But she knew, and she loved me anyway. Peter was wrong. That’s what made it all so much worse; Peter was wrong. He had me thinking that Paige would hate me and be afraid of me if she knew. She was in so much pain because Peter thought…I don’t know what Peter thought. She begged me to make it stop; she knew she was dying, she didn’t want to hurt anymore.”

Stiles wraps Derek in up in his arms and just holds him. “I knew he was lying.”

“But he wasn’t, it was my fault any way the story is told.”

“No, its _Peter’s _fault.” Stiles brushes his lips against Derek’s cheek. “You were the kid who held the first person he ever loved him his arms as she suffered. Because of _Peter_.”

Stiles presses a hand to his cheek, then turns to the microwave pulling out the almost forgotten popcorn and pouring it into the bowl with the other bag. He grabs Derek’s hand and pulls him to the living room. “You’re going to believe what you want to believe, just like me. I’ll just have to find some way to make you believe _me_instead. But until then, let just relax and watch something stupid to wipe the room of all these _feelings_.”

Derek laughed softly, dropping beside Stiles on the couch. “Sounds good. And before you even ask, anything is fine.”

Stiles beams at Derek, grabbing the remote and snuggling in against the wolf. “You got it.”

They sit watching Caddy Shack, laughing throughout the movie; Derek rolling his eyes every time Stiles mumbled Bill Murry’s lines but laughing despite himself.

All in all, it was a great day.

Stiles stares at the screen, watching the groundhog dance and shake; he snorts, throwing a glance up at Derek.

“Derek.” He says, nudging him. “Hey, Derek.”

Derek sighs, his head tilted back with his eyes close. “Yeah?”

Stiles giggles. “Are you a woodchuck?”

Derek groans, pinching the bridge of is nose. “Please don’t. It’s not even a woodch-”

“’Cause you could chuck _my _wood!” Stiles burst out laughing hysterically.

“That’s it.” Derek sits up, pushing Stiles to the side. “I’m leaving. I take back everything I said today. I take it _all _back.”

Derek gets up and Stiles is reaching out and grabbing hold of his arm, pulling it to his chest. “No!” He whines. “No, don’t go! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it! Don’t go!”

Derek looks down at Stiles’ pout. “Fine.” He tells him, sounding put out as he reclaims his seat. “We’re watching We Were Soldiers though.”

Stiles makes a disgruntled sound. “I hate war movies.” He mumbles.

“Too bad.” Derek tells him, swiping the remote. “And just to be clear, it’s a _groundhog_in the movie. Not a _woodchuck_, so your joke wasn’t even accurate.”

“Doesn’t need to be, ‘cause it was _hilarious_!”

Derek shakes his head. “You keep telling yourself that.”


End file.
